Misfire
by Cosmic Castaway
Summary: A terrible accident occurs in the Yokas home. Character Death


Rating: PG-13  
Summary: A terrible accident occurs in the Yokas home. **Character Death**  
Disclaimer: I do not and will not own the characters I use in this twisted little story. So forgive me to anybody who is important that I took them and did this.   
Thank You: Bee for telling me to go with the story idea so, hey I would say this story has to be dedicated to you heheheh thank yeah buddy.   
  
  
Misfire  
  
That day. How can it not stand out in my memories but that one-day like any other? I had done something that plagues my mind every day. I can't escape from it and never will for it's there when I wake up or fall asleep hoping on hope that it won't follow me into my dreams but it does. Taking me into it's far reaches of darkness and toy with my fears and thoughts of what I did that day.   
  
Let me tell you what I did that day and maybe you will feel sorry for me or feel hatred towards me. I wouldn't blame you if you hated me for I loath myself every waking day and will continue to until my so called existence of life withers and dies in the cold earth.   
  
(The Yokas's apartment years ago)   
  
I remember that day like it was yesterday. My mother and father, Faith Yokas and Fred Yokas were going out for the day and not being accompanied by any kids. So being old enough and my sister going into High School were allowed to stay home. I was allowed to have my best friend over Alex, as much as I would like to forget him and that day all together I will never be able to because it would be disrespectful.   
  
My parents left some numbers just in case of emergencies I mean we weren't stupid so she didn't have to write 911 but she did leave her cell phone, Bosco's number and a couple others.   
  
They weren't gone for long when Alex showed up. Immediately making bodily sounds from parts of our body my sister got disgusted and left the area by telling us not to break anything or get into trouble and the sound of the door of hers echoed in our mind.   
  
At first we didn't do anything but sit down and watch some things. Since we began to hit the area of being preteens and knew of the opposite sex we talked about how cool it would be to see our first pair of tits. We then thought about each and every girl we could think of in our class which was hard because living in New York you don't have just 200 people in your class, but we went through the list who we would see or not see. We even thought about who we wanted to lose our virginity to and who not to and maybe screw with a paper bag over our heads. Let me tell you that was the best conversation I thought a male agenda could ever have so I think Alex and I were pretty proud of ourselves.   
  
I tell you how I remember everything but I can't remember who decided to prove my mother wrong. Who decided to look at the gun. The more I think about it and write it out I think no I'm pretty sure it was my dumb ass thought.   
  
  
"Hey want to see my mother's gun?" I had said to my buddy.   
  
Alex looked at me and at first I think I saw fear but fear quickly disappeared and his maleness overloaded his thoughts and anticipation showed over his features and we jumped up.   
  
"Be quiet, I don't want my dumb old sister stopping me." Speaking this I shot a glance at Alex who had this habit of getting us caught because he couldn't keep his own mouth shut.   
  
My dear mother trusted us. Since she was a police officer she had to carry her gun with everywhere she went. She had one in the house at all times, the other one she carried with her and of course she had one at work that stayed in her locker. It was clear to never touch the guns for it could do harm and maybe even kill somebody.   
  
We had always heard the stories of people, kids, shooting each other and that most of the time the guns would more likely kill somebody in your family then ever shoot somebody who was breaking in.   
  
I don't know what the fuck I was thinking. Why couldn't I been a good son and never even have to prove her wrong? Why did I have to be a boy and think handguns were cool, why in Gods name did I have to be the one to have this lesson be taught to me?   
  
  
Finding the gun quickly and knowing with just knowledge I loaded the gun. I didn't cock the weapon back maybe for some reason we would be safe but with bullets? I run this over in my head what was I thinking why didn't I just stop but I realize that again there was something dangerous about it and I wanted to be a rebel.   
  
  
I turned to my friend.   
  
"Bang! Your dead, buddy."   
  
This look came over my friend that I never saw before. A look of pure dread as I had pointed the loaded 33mm pistol at him.   
  
"Don't do THAT!"   
  
I shook my head and got an idea.   
  
"Hey want to play a game?"   
  
My friend shrugged.   
  
"Yeah what."   
  
I smiled and then proudly stood up.   
  
"Cops and robbers."   
  
  
As my friend and I would run about the house trading off being the cop my sister would find this. I don't know what made her decide not to tell us to stop, maybe because she was scared we would turn the gun on her and shoot her. Or maybe she thought she was doing what was best but she ran back to her room picked up the phone and called the one person that first came to mind.   
  
  
Maurice Boscorelli was just about to go out the door. He was going to meet a couple of the guys like Tyrone Davis Jr., Carlos Neito, and Alex Taylor because Ty would bring her along and a couple others. They were going to drink at their favorite place for they wanted to watch a couple college football games on the TV and drink to it.   
  
As he reached for his keys and wallet that laid on the counter closest to the door the phone rung. He thought about not answering at first just thinking if he was out the door he wouldn't of but letting out a long drawn sigh he walked back and answered.   
  
"Yeah."   
  
"Bosco? It's Emily."   
  
"Oh hey Kiddo whatcha need."   
  
"I didn't know who to call."   
  
That is when Bosco recognized the full terror in her voice and began to run terrible things in his head. Faith dead, Charlie dead, somebody had gotten terribly hurt. Everything that could run through his mind that something bad had happened it did.  
  
"What is wrong, what happened tell me sweety."   
  
"Charlie oh my god he has mom's gun and he playing with his friend oh my god Bosco he scaring me to death I don't want to tell him to put it down because he might shoot it."   
  
Going into cop mode without even thinking twice he told Emily to get down on the ground and stay on the ground with pillows over her until he arrived. He quickly hung up the phone and ran out the door with keys and wallet in hand not even thinking about calling the crew.   
  
  
"Okay Alex you been the cop long enough it's my turn."   
  
Alex gave me the gun and I decided I was sick and tired of being just "a" cop I wanted to be somebody in particular and only one person came to my mind. How ironic it would be.   
  
"Okay Alex you're the bad guy who just robbed a bank and me well I'm going to be Officer Boscorelli."   
  
He gave me a confused look at how I just picked a name out of nowhere and I rolled my eyes.   
  
"It's my mother's partner. I know you have seen him at my birthday parties so don't play stupid with me."   
  
"Okay fine."   
  
So the game went on. We would play this game until the worse thing in my life ever happened, the gun went off.   
  
  
I don't know how the gun got cocked; maybe it was when Alex and I kept handling it. Who knows but it was. I was chasing Alex telling him to freeze and yelling NYPD and other stuff that was related to cops that I had heard on television, from my mother, or even Bosco.   
  
Having my back to the door I was yelling. Screaming to Alex to get on the ground because he was the bad guy. Then the door opened to the apartment.   
  
  
My sister and I had memorized the sound of that door. We would always wake up when my mother came home no matter what hour of the night we always listened for her. Being children of a cop you always go to bed wondering if your beloved parent will ever come home again and therefore my sister and I would sit together and listen.   
  
  
I got startled when that door opened and I spun around and it happened. I recall everything and try to remember some certain details that have slipped and I think my finger was on the trigger. I believed when my finger was on the trigger and I turned around I put just enough pressure on it, the gun exploded.   
  
I'll never forget that look as long as I live my worthless life. The look of shock, the look of fear, the look of betrayal in his eyes. I had shot Bosco the man I admired more than my father. The man who seemed to be everywhere my mother was always protecting her and making sure she came home to us.   
  
I could see it in his eyes as he slumped to the floor. That look of complete and utter fear as his brain began to process in what had happened to him. The way his features changed as he realized he was going to die right there in front of us and no matter what we did he was going to die.   
  
My friend and I would watch as his body stopped fighting and his brain got the signal that his heart had just stopped beating life into him. The sound of his last breath was deafening and no words I could ever express would ever tell how it sounded as he took the last gulping inhalation that he would ever take.   
  
The gun slipped from my hands as Bosco died right in front of us and it made a loud thumping sound as it hit the wooden floor. Another door swung open and my sister ran out of her room. The horrific scream emerged from her vocals deep with in her soul as she took in the sight of the body in the doorway.   
  
Blood, there was so much blood. I had never ever seen so much blood come out of somebody, I was only a kid and even then most adults would never see that much blood not on the movie screen not on the TV box and not even real life. But I saw it ooze and began to pool around his cold body. It wasn't some nightmare because by then I would of woken up. It was a terrible mistake and it was my entire fault.   
  
  
The rest of the things would blur. I wouldn't remember what happened after that. Of course I would recall certain things happening but not many conversations though. I remember my mother's depressing time, how sad she was. This look of sorrow that would just never go away that seemed to always hang around. Who's to blame her? It was because of me her best friend in the world was dead. I can't just come up to her and say "sorry mom that I killed your best friend."   
  
I remember the funeral. For being a bit of a loud mouth and being on people's bad side a lot of people still came to his funeral that I do remember. He was a great cop who was killed in his prime. I guess now that I look back we looked at Bosco as though he was a man who could never be stopped or killed and I guess to most people it was a shocking blow that a kid, me, killed him. I got glares and looks because I had taken this man from people's lives and from my mother's life.   
  
My family would break up after that. My father tried understanding always trying to talk to my mother but she just pushed him away. She felt he would never understand her grief. I think my father still loves her very much and I think he would come back to her the moment she came out of her own world were Bosco was alive and not dead.   
  
Beloved sister Emily, she stopped talking to me. Or maybe I stopped talking to her. I knew she hated me, not hated to kill me but hated me that I had been so stupid that day. Hated herself I think as well that she didn't stop us from playing with that gun. I don't really know anymore and maybe someday I'll be able to fix it all together but not right now. My family is broken now more then ever and it's all because I killed a man we all knew, admired and loved.   
  
  
So do you hate me? I sure do, I will never be able to forgive myself. I don't think nobody should ever feel sorry for me because it was my fault that I took the gun out. My fault that I decided to play with a loaded gun and my fault that Bosco was shot and killed.   
  
I never looked at guns again. I hated them and everything they stood for and my last thoughts every time I think about that one day is that I hope to never have kids because they might get the same idea I did and end up making the same terrible mistake that I have to life with for the rest of my pathetic life. That I shot and killed the man I was pretending to play; the man I wanted to be, Officer Boscorelli.   
  
The End  
  
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Author Note: Okay so this is my SECOND TIME killing Bosco. What? Stop throwing things at me! Don't forget I have a baseball bat and I do know how to swing this sucker. Anyways, I just wanted to say that, even though I wrote this, this doesn't mean I EVER WANT THIS to happen on the show, YOU GOT ME! I love his character and everything it stands for, so don't EVER THINK I WANT THIS ON THE SHOW. Okay remember this is FanFic ;) Thank you and PEACE OUT. 


End file.
